Bits and Bobs, Vol 2
by San Antonio Rose
Summary: A second collection of one-shot shorts.
1. You Have to Laugh

A/N: Told you there'd be a Volume 2, didn't I? :D This one's for a prompt by cuddyclothes on the spn_bigpretzel Outsider POV Comment-Fic Meme, written off the cuff without rewatching the episode (though I did check SuperWiki for names).

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You Have to Laugh

Jake Miller's a blessed man. He knows that. He could be stuck walking a beat in Detroit, and Lord knows how low his odds of survival would be there.

Farmington Hills is a pretty quiet town, all things considered. In the county, there's more plants than people. Oh, sure, there's problems everywhere—he sees his fair share of drunks and druggies, domestic disputes of the usual sorts, and even a few of the unusual sorts. The one where the wife locked the husband out of the house in a bid to force him not to go to Lansing for chemo because she was just sure he'd never come back if he went was... well, one of the latter. But all things considered, it isn't a bad place to be from a LEO's perspective. And that helps a lot when it comes to keeping a sense of humor.

See, when you're a LEO, you _have_ to have a sense of humor, even if it's off-the-wall gallows humor. Maybe outsiders find it gruesome and inappropriate, but you _have_ to. Otherwise... well, just look at the news anymore. Too many officers who think the public is the enemy. Too many who can't take the stress and snap. Too many marriages that can't take the strain.

Jake can't imagine how the chaplains do it, especially in a place like Detroit. God bless 'em.

Anyway, Jake's at an age now where Kids These Days make for a good quip in more situations than not, even if he can't make the quip in front of anyone but a fellow LEO because the other catch phrase these days is Militarized Thug Cops. Not that Jake's department has any such problems, but national media being what it is... well. He just has to be audience-conscious, is all. After all, he's got to stand for re-election at least one more time before he gives in to his wife and retires.

And then he gets the call about Ed Nelson.

He can't help it. The whole situation is so totally bizarre, between the action figures and the chain mail and the crazy texts and the corpse that almost looks like the kid was _drawn and quartered_, except for the whole locked-room-mystery side of things. And these two FBI agents, Taggart and Rosewood... Taggart's got a stick up his rear, probably trouble at home that he's been taking out on his partner, and Rosewood sure isn't happy about it. Jake's got to inject some levity into the situation somehow.

So what comes out is, "These kids today, with their texting and murder."

And it almost works. Taggart's picked up on something—Lord knows what—and seems like he's wanting to tie himself up in work so he doesn't have to deal with whatever he's not dealing with, and Jake's not going to be the one to break him out of his mood. But blessed if he doesn't half-smile when Jake says that.

So Jake keeps the quips coming, even as he defers the weird to the agents. They know what they're doing, and this one's out of his league. But he can do a little to help keep things light, because you have to laugh. You _have to_.

If you don't... even Our Lady of Sorrows doesn't have enough tears.


	2. Let's Play To Tell A Fib!

Let's Play "To Tell A Fib"!

Gabriel was trying to watch TV but just couldn't stop brooding. He hadn't wanted it to come to this, but Lucifer was loose, and Sam and Dean were running from their destiny.

_"Hi, kids. Who do you love the most?"_

_"CAPTAIN CROCODILE!"_

He had to figure out some way to get those muttonheads to play their roles!

_"Would you do anything for the Captain?"_

_"ANYTHING!"_

_"Even if it's dirty and rotten?"_

_"YEAH!"_

Play... their...

_"Well, then, get the Monkees! Sic 'em! SIC 'EM!"_

_"YEAH!"_

Slowly, he smiled. That might just work.

_She knows her mind all right, your Auntie Grizelda..._

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.

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A/N (for everyone who isn't AuntMo, who'll get this one right away): I think this is my first actual drabble! Inspired by this week's Drabble Every Weekend prompt at spn_bigpretzel on LJ, _angels_ and _TV_—I'm not a member, but this bunny bit pretty hard. Italicized dialogue is from _The Monkees_, "Captain Crocodile," in which the Monkees are hired to play on a children's TV show and the paranoid host believes it's the first step toward the network easing him out; the kids in question are his fan club, and through the song that follows, they chase the Monkees through a wild variety of TV sets.


	3. Make a Strange Request

A/N: Written for a picture prompt shared by Kalliel (on LJ) of a note reading:

_Hello,  
We hope your exorcism was successful last night.  
We do ask, as a courtesy to us and the other neighbors on this floor, that you limit expelling demons to Friday &amp; Saturday nights.  
Thank you, in advance_

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Make a Strange Request...

Jane wasn't actually expecting a reply when she stuck the Post-It note on the neighbors' door. The two men hadn't been around long enough for her to even learn their names; she'd heard them talking a few times late at night, but never loudly enough for her to make out anything they said. They kept to themselves and rarely stopped to do more than smile at anyone in the parking lot. They didn't even turn their TV and radio up very loud, at least not at night.

That was what had made the screaming racket the night before so inexplicable. It had sounded like something out of a horror movie, complete with furniture falling and glass breaking, which was what had prompted a badly sleep-deprived Jane to write the snarky note about exorcisms in the first place. But surely it had been only a domestic quarrel, right?

So when she dragged herself home from the day's grocery run that morning, she was stunned to find a note on her door. She let herself in, set her first load on the table, and went back to retrieve the note. The firm masculine handwriting wasn't much of a surprise, but the words definitely were:

_Don't worry, that was the last of them. We'll be out of your hair tonight. If anything else weird happens, though, call 785-555-9847 or pray to Castiel, and we'll come back and take care of it.  
DW_

Jane blinked at the note, read it again, set it aside, brought in the rest of the groceries, poured a fresh cup of coffee, drank most of it, and read the note again. It didn't make any more sense than it had the first time.

But sure enough, the apartment next door was empty, and the men never came back.


End file.
